Creepy
by Amiyrasmom
Summary: Neal Caffrey is up for a commutation of his sentence due to injuries received in the line of duty. The BAU is called in to interview him for the hearing. Just a one off that hit me in the middle of the night. Rating is for two curse words.


L.J. Smith wrote:

People Die...  
>Beauty Fades...<br>Love Changes...  
>And You Will Always Be Alone<p>

_Creepy._

It was a moniker that had followed him for as long as he could remember. Kids could be cruel. Anyone that was different was open to bullying, looks of disgust and so many other ego damaging incidents.

He'd learned to ignore the looks and the whispers. He'd figured out how to endure the beatings. He thought he'd grown a thicker skin. He'd trained himself to remember that what other people thought of him didn't matter to him.

He'd joined the BAU and found a home. No one here called him creepy. Sure they teased him and shot him fondly exasperated looks when he said something that was a bit off. But…they accepted him for what he was. A genius with crap social skills. It was good. They were his family.

"Ready Reid?" Hotch broke into his musings.

Spencer glanced up and nodded before following Hotch and the others out of the jet into the cool air of the New York airstrip. The drive to the FBI building didn't take much time and the others were all chattering and passing the weekend information back and forth like any other Monday morning.

Spencer tuned them out and skimmed the file in his lap again. Neal Caffrey. He was a non-violent offender. A con artist in the style of the movie ones. An endearing, charming, romantic rogue. And for the past two years he'd been helping the FBI catch other white collar criminals and a few that weren't white collar. Spencer was impressed despite himself.

He knew the statistics. Seventy percent of so called non-violent offenders were recaptured within three years and their crimes had normally escalated. Something told him that Caffrey was within the thirty percent that were rehabilitated.

Caffrey was up for a sentence commutation. He'd been severely injured while assisting in the apprehension of one of the Organized Crime Unit's perps. He had been loaned out to them because of some art connections. The team that was supposed to be supporting him had waited for nearly an hour after Caffrey had said the code word to extract him. Officially they were late because the team hit some snags with the outside guards.

Spencer snorted under his breath as they pulled into the parking garage under the FBI building. He knew bully psychology better than most. The OC team was making a point. Caffrey didn't deserve the same level of protection as the other agents. Assholes.

The morning interviews were enlightening. The White Collar Team all trusted Caffrey with their lives. There was some dissension about whether they trusted him with their wallets but that was more in amusement than anything else. Hughes grudgingly accepted that Caffrey had done some good work but he was old school and didn't quite trust Caffrey not to go back to a life of crime. Burke, Caffrey's handler, was torn. He trusted Caffrey but then again he didn't. He thought Caffrey would run as soon as he could even though the man had had a million opportunities and hadn't run.

The feelings among the rest of the units were mixed. Most of them believed that Caffrey's sentence should be commuted. Not because they believed him to be rehabilitated but because he'd paid more than his fair share of time for his crimes. And being injured during an op? That was something that all of them feared and empathized with.

"Reid, we're taking a break while they bring Caffrey in," Morgan told him as they all filed from the conference room. "We're gonna go take a look at Caffrey's desk, you coming?"

"Sure," Spencer nodded easily. He joined the rest of his team and a few others in the elevator.

Not even two floors along he noticed the tension in Hotch's shoulders, the clenching of Morgan's jaw. JJ was clenching her fists. And Elle was tapping her foot. They weren't chatting like they usually were and they had all moved so that they were surrounding him. Then he heard the whispers.

_"__The kid's creepy."_

_"__I know. Did you hear him in there? Creepy doesn't cover it."_

_"__He looks creepy too."_

_"__Those eyes. And that blank look. Like he's seeing into your soul or something. Seriously creepy."_

Spencer felt the tension crawling into his own muscles and took a deep breath. He'd become complacent. The BAU team usually insulated him from insulting comments. He felt the brush of JJ's hand on his arm and turned to her.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave him a smoldering look. Her eyes were lit with a vengeful fire. He knew the look was fake. She was JJ, his sister, his friend. She was also beautiful and knew it. "You're still taking me to the hockey game next weekend?" She asked him in a soft but carrying voice.

Spencer patted her hand and smiled down at her. He didn't mind playing this game. The whisperers would have never believed that a guy like him could score with a woman like JJ. The fact that he didn't really want too (it would feel like incest) was irrelevant. "Of course. We're going to beat the Penguins this time. Then you'll have to buy dinner for me for once."

JJ let out a light laugh. "You're on, cowboy."

The whispers stopped.

They got off on the right floor and headed for the White Collar office. He and Morgan volunteered to run down to the sandwich shop for everyone. They were walking silently down the hallway to the garage when they heard voices.

"Shit! Neal, I forgot your ID in the car." A woman's distressed voice said.

"It's fine, Diana," the low male voice seemed pained. "We can go get it."

"No! You're already tired," the woman said. "And you refused to take your pain meds so that you'd be clear headed for your interview." There was a moment of silence and then a loud sigh. "Stay right here," she ordered. "I'll be right back. I mean it, Neal, don't move from that spot and lean against the damn wall. I'll pay to dry clean your suit if it gets dirty."

"Yes, Mom," the man agreed with a small laugh. "I'll be good."

The clacking of heels echoed from the garage and Morgan and Spencer started walking again.

"Convict," a harsh voice assaulted them just before they rounded the corner. Morgan stopped again and tilted his head to listen. Spencer followed his lead. "Hey, convict! I'm talking to you." The voice was closer but Caffrey didn't answer him. "Don't ignore me." Silence. "They're gonna send you back, you know? You endangered my team. The FBI doesn't forget things like that. They're gonna send you back and give you even more time, convict. And I'm gonna laugh. You shouldn't have gotten out in the first place. You're a convict. Worthless. A nobody. Not worth the skin used to make you." More silence. "What nothing to say? You just remember after they send you back that maybe you should've let Feshnel kill you. You don't deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of us. You'd be better off dead." Footsteps echoed again.

"I will not frame Ruiz. I will not frame Ruiz. I will not frame Ruiz," Caffrey's voice muttered. Morgan bit back a snicker and started walking again. They glanced at Caffrey but didn't say anything until they were passed him by a good ten feet.

Spencer saw Agent Barrigan heading back towards them and turned to face Caffrey. "You know," he said to the other man slowly. "Wire transfers are easy to make untraceable…or to make them look like they came from a source within one of the crime families? Especially if you have help from inside the FBI." Caffrey's eyes widened just a bit. Knowing what he knew about Caffrey Spencer figured the man must be in more pain than anyone knew. "You should visit the BAU up in Quantico once you're healed enough to travel." Then he turned and walked to the doors with Morgan.

Two months later Neal Caffrey sat down across from Spencer. "It was a good suggestion," he said without preamble. "But I had a better idea." Spencer cocked an eyebrow at him. "Two of his informants filed sexual harassment claims. Completely truthful claims. They just needed a nudge."

"Bully psychology," Spencer nodded.

"You're creepy, Reid," Caffrey said with such awe and respect that Spencer blushed. "I like it."

Zak Baganssaid: "I discovered that what most people call creepy, scary, and spooky, I call comfy, cozy, and home."


End file.
